


Excellent Healthcare

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers as Supporting Cast, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, POV Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-28 20:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: The first time Peter met Tony Stark, Peter was twenty-three years old and had a concussion.





	Excellent Healthcare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexisriversong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexisriversong/gifts).



> This is a canon divergent AU in which Civil War didn't happen and Homecoming consequently went in a different direction. Ragnarok also didn't happen that way. Infinity Wars, if it happened, was resolved in a way that left everyone alive and all the loose ends tied up. There are a lot of background changes, basically, to get all these secondary characters to play well together and let Peter mostly be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who doesn't need to worry about anything but local events.
> 
> Thanks to duckmoles for the encouragement to get this last treat written!
> 
> Recip, I saw you liked alternate first meetings. So do I! I hope you enjoy this one.

The first time Peter met Tony Stark, Peter was twenty-three years old and had a concussion. A portal had opened up over New York City, resulting in a lot of panic and a number of flashbacks among the general population. Instead of Chitauri, giant flying squid came hurtling out.

"What the hell," Peter said.

"I've got the check," Ned said, pulling out his wallet. "You've got this."

But Peter didn't have this. He didn't know what he could do except provide a distraction while civilians fled to safety. He had a day job teaching science to bored middle schoolers. When he suited up, it was so he could stop bike thieves and give directions to sweet little old ladies. Anything bigger tended to be a disaster meant for the Avengers, and Peter had learned his lesson when he was fifteen years old and nearly died five times trying to stop an arms dealer in Queens, only to sink a ferry and later get lectured by an irate SI employee about starting fights on stealth planes near populated areas. He didn't go out looking for them and only interfered when there was no one else.

Peter got tangled up in one squid's tentacle arms when it suddenly dodged his attempt to web it and caught him by his swinging line. It then smashed Peter against a few buildings like a particularly violent child with a disfavored toy—and Peter was the toy. On the plus side, the other three giant squid stopped what they were doing to watch.

"Today sucks," Peter moaned when it finally dropped him on an overturned car. Then he got up and said, "Hey, you! We weren't done yet!" because no one else was there yet and someone had to do something. Peter didn't know what he was doing, but it had to be better than nothing. For his efforts, he got smacked into a building again.

By the time the Avengers showed up, Peter was one big bruise and had finally figured out that they really were playing. One had tried picking up someone else and, when he shrieked in mortal terror, dropped him. Fortunately Peter had caught him with a web, though he probably wasn't happy with his position swinging from a lamp post. He was alive, though, and the squid hadn't grabbed anyone else. Peter had commandeered a hot dog cart and was throwing them treats every time they did a loop of the block when Thor came flying up and said, "I see you have tamed the Z'xhor. Good job, Man of Spiders!"

"Spider-Man," Peter mumbled.

Thor was followed by Iron Man carrying Captain America and Falcon carting the Winter Soldier. Either the others were on the way or four giant squid didn't merit the full complement.

"So: destructive, dangerous to the unwary, but ultimately harmless," said Iron Man. "Just confirming what you said before, because this looks like an awful lot of property damage for what you described as a bunch of overenthusiastic puppies, Thor."

"No one is harmed," Thor said.

"Mostly true," Peter said. The Avengers were there, so it was time for him to check out. Peter waved at the squid and threw one last hot dog for them to squabble over, though it was barely a sliver of a mouthful for them. He turned on his heel and wobbled his way toward what he hoped would be a more relaxing evening in with a bathtub full of ice cubes.

"Whoa, there." Iron Man let Captain America down with the rest of his team, but touched down in front of Peter. "What do you mean by mostly true?"

Peter waved a hand vaguely in the right direction. "There's someone hanging from a lamp post two streets over. You should be able to cut him down, though he was more scared than anything."

"And what about you, Spiderling?"

"Spider-Man," Peter repeated. "I'm fine. I'm good. I'm just—going to go."

Iron Man crossed his arms. "Walk a straight line and tell me that again."

Peter was trying to. Iron Man followed him. "Don't you have giant squid to wrangle?"

"Thor's got it." Thor was, in fact, surrounded by them when Peter looked back, lifted high by one as he boomed joyous laughter. "See, he's having fun."

"Wasn't so fun from my end. Don't let them get too close to your squishier teammates." Peter tried to wave Iron Man away. "I don't mean to be rude, but I really need you to go away so I can find my stuff, get dressed, and take a cab home."

"How about I give you a lift?" Iron Man volunteered.

Peter could feel blood drying on his scalp. It itched. Tiredly, he said, "I don't take anyone home on the first date."

"What about before it?"

"I wear a mask for a reason, Mr. Stark," Peter said pointedly.

"I'd respect that a lot more if I thought you weren't going to pass out in an alley somewhere. And please, call me Tony. Anyone who helps save my city is a friend of mine."

"Mr. Stark—"

" _Tony_ ," he said insistently, and yeah, fine, whatever, Peter didn't have the energy to argue.

"I'll be fine. I've had a lot worse than this." Peter stopped walking. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Maybe I want to." Tony tapped something on the chest plate, and the suit shimmered and reshaped into a suit and sunglasses held in Tony's hand. Peter's brain hurt even more trying to figure out how that worked. Tony put the sunglasses on. "Come on. I can call a car. I promise I won't tell anyone you're Peter Parker."

Shit.

Tony smiled. "I'm guessing that's another reason why you wear the mask. Even with it on, you've got no poker face."

Peter slumped. "Fine. But I still need to grab my clothes."

"I've got the time."

Peter changed in public on the regular, but it felt markedly different with another person standing next to him. Tony winced when his face was revealed. "That really doesn't look fine."

"I may need to call in sick tomorrow," Peter allowed.

"You look like you need a hospital." Tony held up his hand in front of Peter's face. "How many fingers?"

Peter swatted it away. "I heal fast."

He couldn't help the whimper as he tried to get the back zipper. Tony stepped forward and caught the tab, drawing it down slowly. "I've got it. Used to do this all the time for Pep, though those were usually nice dresses instead of—is this a onesie? What is this made out of, Goodwill's rejects?"

"Not all of us have multi-million dollar costume budgets." Peter let out a groan of relief as some of the pressure on his swollen shoulder was relieved. Though he hadn't asked, Tony carefully eased the fabric forward and down his arms.

"You could." Tony's hands were gentle against Peter's wrist as he pulled the cuff over a sprain.

"Is this a pitch? Right after I got beaten up by alien pets?" Peter should be helping, but he was exhausted. He let Tony get his other arm, too.

"You've seen the worst this job has to offer. Maybe you'd like to see the better parts." Tony smiled and took a step back, leaving Peter bare-chested and with the top of his costume hanging loose against his legs. "Just a thought."

"I'll keep it in mind." Peter put on his shirt before pulling the rest of the costume off.

Tony had looked down the alleyway, towards the mouth, when Peter kicked the spandex off his feet, but he must have looked back, because he said, "Is that a thong?" in a strangled voice when Peter bent over to grab his jeans.

"Boxers bunch up," Peter said defensively. He zipped himself in. "Also, you can't see the outline of my underwear this way."

Tony held up his hands. "That wasn't a complaint—there is definitely nothing to complain about there—just an inappropriate observation. I'll keep my eyes to myself."

Peter's cheeks burned around the bruising as he toed on his sneakers. "You don't have to."

"I don't?" Tony confirmed slowly.

"I know exactly how little my suit leaves to the imagination." Maybe not when he'd made his first one at fifteen, but he'd definitely figured it out later. "I don't mind if people look."

Tony's voice went low as he asked, "What about this person in particular?"

Peter finished tying a double knot, a little awkward because his fingers refused to cooperate. He straightened. "I'm kind of a mess right now," an understatement if there ever was; Peter could feel blood still dribbling down his ear, "but feel free to look whenever you want."

"Interesting." Tony's eyes raked up and down Peter's body, and he felt them like a wash of heat. "I may take you up on that."

Peter stuffed his suit into the briefcase he'd webbed halfway up the building—not by the fire escape, having learned that lesson years back with his backpacks. "So, uh, you said you'd call a car?"

"Yep." Tony pulled out a phone—Where? How? That pocket had been part of his armor ten minutes ago!—and tapped the screen. "Should be pulling up just about ... now."

A driverless sedan stopped at the mouth of the alleyway. Tony opened the back door for Peter, then slid in after him. Peter said, "I don't suppose you need my address."

"Would it make you feel any better to tell me?" Tony asked. "We can pretend it surprises me."

Peter sighed. He should be excited. He was in the backseat of a fancy car with his childhood hero, the man who was probably responsible for at least half of Peter's teenage bisexual awakening. They were alone together. If Peter wanted, he could ask a hundred questions about Tony's nano-tech that would probably be answered with, "That's proprietary information."

Every inch of Peter hurt. He was covered in cuts and bruises. When Tony had asked for a number, Peter had sidestepped the question, but he knew Tony didn't have eight fingers on his right hand. His left shoulder felt wrong, and his right wrist felt hot and swollen.

"Alright. Give me the pitch." There was only one reason Tony was being this solicitous, and he'd already played his hand. "Tell me why you want me to join the Avengers when I'm just a guy in a mask who helps little old ladies cross the street and rescues cats from trees."

"Why we need you wouldn't make a good pitch. Ask not what you can do for the Avengers, but what the Avengers can do for you." Tony pointed at Peter. "Normally, I'd start with something like our stipend for part-time members and the generous salary for our full-timers, the perks like free transport anywhere in the world, our rigorous training program, or maybe that the fame and the prestige are a great way to pick up people. But for you, Peter Parker, I am going to ignore those—"

Laying them all out like that wasn't really ignoring them in Peter's opinion.

"—in favor of pointing out that we offer excellent healthcare." Tony looked at Peter over his sunglasses. "Please. I'm begging you. Take advantage of our healthcare. I can take you straight to the infirmary in Avengers' Tower right now if you let me. I also have a very discreet private clinic I keep on retainer if you're willing to let another person in on your secret identity."

"I told you. I heal fast." Peter adjusted the briefcase in his lap. "I'll be fine."

Tony looked Peter over carefully and pressed his lips together like he was swallowing back an argument. "Moving on, there's also the fact that you'll have back-up on tap at any given moment, just a phone call or distress signal away."

"I don't need back-up for getting a cat out of a tree."

"I know Thor may have confused you with the way he talked about them, but those giant monster squid were nothing like a house cat. Humanity's pets can't put a person through a building."

Peter rubbed his forehead and immediately regretted it. "I don't usually get caught up in stuff like that."

"See, you say that." Tony pulled back out his phone and tapped it a few times. "Seventeen."

"Seventeen what?" Peter asked, though he didn't really want to know.

"That's how many Avengers level events you've showed up for, though you've always swung off before we could catch you in the past, and no one wanted to press." Tony pressed a button, and a hologram of Peter swinging right at the snout of what he'd thought at the time was a mad scientist's attempt to recreate Godzilla. Peter flinched as he suddenly redirected from its open mouth. He still remembered how warm and humid its breath had been as it roared. "This is not saving cats from trees. We didn't press before, but I think we should have."

"For the record, I'm glad you didn't." Peter had no idea how he'd have reacted to one of the Avengers showing up in his private life or while he was out on patrol. Maybe he'd have asked for an autograph without an immediate danger to distract him. The only reason he could cope with being alone with Tony Stark right now was that he was in too much pain to really process it. He was probably going to spend a significant part of his ice bath screaming into his hands about this. "Really, really glad."

"Should I be offended?"

Peter offered Tony a half-smile. "No."

Tony's expression softened. He put the phone away again. "This isn't a hard sell. You don't have to agree to anything. But come home with me. I don't care if you can heal on your own; you'll heal faster with medical attention."

Peter shook his head. That was a mistake, too. "As I said, I don't go home with anyone on the first date, not even theirs."

Tony huffed out a breath. "And I put out on the first one. Before it, even. Look, in this metaphor, you have stood me up seventeen times. Surely that counts for something."

"You'd have to actually ask me out first," Peter said.

"This is me asking." Tony put his hand on Peter's shoulder and leaned in close, which was dirty pool. "Parker. Spider-Man. Whatever you'd like to call yourself. Won't you join my not-so-secret boy band, pretty please with sprinkles on top?"

"The gender gap's bad, but not that bad," Peter said. "I don't think you can call it a boy band."

Tony smiled and gently squeezed Peter's shoulder. It hurt a little, but not in a bad way. Peter certainly wasn't going to remind Tony there were bruises there, not when his amusement lit his face in a way Peter could happily spend the whole ride staring at shamelessly. "That's not an answer."

"I'll think about it." Unfortunately, that answer wiped the smile away. It left something a little sadder behind.

"Right. No pressure." Tony drew back. He went rummaging through the storage between the front seats. "I think I've got wet wipes somewhere in here if you want to clean up a little. Did you want water? There's bottled water. Oh, hey, a granola bar."

Tony presented him with a pack of wet wipes, a bottle of water, and a peanut butter and oatmeal granola bar. He looked so hopeful that Peter swallowed down his initial rejection and accepted them. He wasn't really hungry—he and Ned had been lingering over dessert, caught up in discussion of a recent movie, so he'd eaten recently—but he could always save it for later or auction it online under the tag, "Tony Stark has personally touched this." Or, well, keep it forever like he was still seventeen and prepared to personally fight anyone and everyone for the position of president of Tony Stark's fan club.

"So now that you've accepted something from me," Tony said hopefully, and oh, no, he not only was resorting to minor psychological tricks, but he was being ridiculously, endearingly open about using them, "would you say you're more, less, or equally likely to decide on a yes?"

"Please don't make me laugh," Peter said, tears in his eyes. "I think I have a cracked rib."

Oops, and there Tony was looking concerned again. "Can I at least tell you about our infirmary some more?"

"Sure, Tony." Peter settled back against his seat. "Tell me whatever you like."

Tony's voice washed over Peter like wave after wave of warm water lapping at his skin. He hadn't meant to close his eyes, but the next thing he knew, they were pulling up in front of his building and a now quiet Tony was shaking him awake. His voice was soft as he said, "Come on, end of the line. Ride's over unless you want to change your destination. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." He smiled. "Unless you want to come home with me, but you've already emphasized that you're not that sort of girl."

"Sorry." Peter straightened and immediately was overcome with regret once more. Moving would be a mistake for a while yet. "Didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"It was cute. Did you know you snore?"

"I do not," Peter protested, a little more awake now.

"More snuffling than outright snoring." Tony brushed his fingertips against a bruise on Peter's cheek. "You do heal fast. That was a different color in the alleyway."

"Told you." Peter gathered his things, stuffing the small pile of items Tony had given him into the briefcase. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah. I'm sure you will."

Peter opened the door, but a touch at his elbow stopped him.

"Hey, Peter?" Tony took off his sunglasses. "One last question, separate from the Avengers thing." Tony touched Peter's jaw this time. "What are you doing this Friday night?"

"I don't have any plans."

"Go on a date with me, no metaphor. Unless there's a villain attack and you're injured, I promise I won't even try to get you to go home with me. I'll save it all for the second date."

Oh. That wasn't all flirting for the sake of a yes. Peter was caught flat-footed, staring silently for several seconds. Tony's open expression had gone shuttered. He started to pull his hand away. Peter grabbed it. "What time do you want to pick me up?"

Tony smiled again. "How does six sound?"

"It sounds great."

—

Peter had to go back out to buy more ice, but first he went into his apartment to clean up and grin wildly at nothing. He pulled the cut on his lip open again, but he didn't mind. Today had been awful and awesome in equal measure. Being beaten up by a bunch of over-excited giant alien squid was absolutely worth a date with Tony Stark.

—

Tony was a weird date. He showed up and said, "Fancy or fun?"

Peter had dressed up in his second nicest suit, the one he wore to various school functions, but he said, "Fun."

Tony's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. How do you feel about ski ball?"

They went to an arcade, where Tony proved he had never actually played ski ball in his life, but was a pinball wizard. Peter did have fun playing random games—racing games and shooting games and trying out an ancient DDR machine—but he had more fun watching Tony carefully examine another wooden ball as he said, "It shouldn't be this hard to get it in the right hole." Peter laughed a little, and Tony pointed at him. "Don't start. There are young, impressionable ears who don't need to hear your innuendo."

"I didn't say anything."

Tony shook his head. "But you were definitely thinking it."

Peter was thinking a lot of things, most of them inappropriate for the setting. He was also thinking how nice this was, how uncomplicated and sweet it was to just play a little. On the way out, Tony dumped their pile of tickets on a random kid, who lit up.

Peter put his hands in his pockets as they wandered down the street. "This was great, but I was hoping for actual food at some point."

"BK?" Tony asked.

They sat in one of the booths, all hard plastic and Formica table. Tony brushed their ankles together. They were finished with their burgers and in the middle of discussing lab safety problems—specifically, the way Peter had to coordinate with every other teacher when running experiments, because all the drains and piping were connected on the second floor, and they all lived in fear of accidentally gassing the entire science department—when two people in hoodies and jeans wandered in and sat down next to them. One of those people was Captain America. The other was Black Widow.

"Hey, Tony. How's it going?" Captain America asked. "We thought we'd come help, maybe answer some questions."

"Questions," Peter said blankly.

Black Widow smiled. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Kind of busy here," Tony said. "If there were an emergency, you'd have called me, but you didn't, which means you're just being nosy. That means I get to tell you to _go away_."

"If you couldn't convince him," and oh, Hawkeye had just showed up to the party, followed close on his heels by War Machine, "we thought maybe someone else should get a turn."

"Tony, I'm sorry. I tried to stop them," said War Machine.

Peter couldn't keep the note of accusation out of his voice as he said, "You said this wasn't an Avengers thing."

Then again, Tony had just put his head in his hands, so it didn't look like he'd expected it to be an Avengers thing either. "How did you even find us?"

"Tracker in your phone," Black Widow said matter-of-factly.

"We checked Per Se first, but they said you canceled your reservation." Hawkeye leaned over the table and stole one of Tony's few remaining fries.

"How am I friends with you people? Not you, Rhodey, you're fine. I'm sure you did your best."

"Huh. Steve, I think this really was a date," Black Widow said.

Cap looked between Tony, head in his hands, and Peter, who was channeling his best unimpressed look. "Well. We'll. Let you get back to that. Tony can give you my number if you have any questions at all. Sorry about this? I hope this doesn't give you the wrong impression about—"

"Just go," Tony interrupted him.

They went.

"I swear I didn't mean to ambush you," Tony said.

Peter crumpled his empty wrapper and grabbed the tray. "Want to get out of here?"

On their way out, they ran into Thor.

—

Tony parked on the street and walked Peter to the front door like a perfect gentleman. He kissed Peter goodnight sweetly, chastely, hands firmly on the shoulders and lips closed. "So about that second date—"

"Would you like to come in for coffee?" Peter said. "And to be clear, I'm not offering coffee here."

"What happened to not on the first date?"

"Tony, it was a metaphor." Peter kissed Tony again, licking into the seam of Tony's mouth. "I would very much like to take you home tonight. Oh, look, we're already here."

"Yeah, okay," Tony said, eyes dark. "We both know I meant it when I said I'd have sex on the first date. I'd be happy to come in for coffee with you. But just so you know, I do want that second date."

—

There were no interruptions from the Avengers this time.

—

"So I got you something, but it's a gift, not a bribe to join my superhero team," Tony said a week into dating. "Think of it like flowers, but more useful."

Peter had both a good and a bad feeling about this. "What sort of gift?"

"The type you fight crime in." Tony had a metal suitcase with him. He clicked it open in Peter's living room to reveal what had to be a ridiculously expensive Spider-Man costume. "If you don't like it, you can always exchange it."

"For what? Store credit?" Peter asked, dazed, running fingers along the bright red.

Tony looked shifty, eyes on the suit instead of Peter's face. "I may have started a second suit for you last Saturday in my spare time, but it's not ready yet."

"How long exactly," Peter said slowly, "have you had this suit?"

"Not important," Tony said, which Peter translated to mean, _Longer than you'd like to know_. "Look, why don't you try it on, let me know how it fits?"

Peter probably should have turned it down, because he wasn't planning to join the Avengers, but the truth was they were only getting it back from his cold, dead hands. It fit perfectly. Tony had programmed every feature to be intuitive and had included an AI who regulated it all. Everything responded beautifully. There was even a tutorial program that went through how everything worked. There was only one problem.

"Tony, why is there a program called instant kill mode?"

"You never know when an army of murderous aliens will drop out of the sky."

"Is there an army of murderous aliens about to drop out of the sky?" Peter asked, suddenly concerned. Not everything the Avengers got up to got out to the general public.

"Not since we blew them all up," Tony said with false cheer.

Right. Peter wasn't going to ask—but he also wasn't going to tell Tony to take out the instant kill mode.

—

It took two months—two months of dates and texts and phone calls and Tony occasionally spending the night, even though Tony hated Peter's bed and kept threatening to buy him a new one—and another Avengers level event for Peter to say yes to joining the Avengers. A few more portals had opened around the globe in the interim, mostly spitting out harmless monsters Thor swore were domesticated and which didn't require a full team. Tony had pointed out that Thor could have taken care of them himself, but they were all afraid he was going to try to keep one, so usually at least one other person went with him. There was a new portal, though, that was at least three times the size of the largest one so far.

"Honey, I'm going to have to cancel our date," Tony said, standing at Peter's front door, but attention on the same live news feed Peter was staring at on his own phone. What looked like a gigantic t-rex was sticking its snout through the hole, which was widening to let its head through.

"I'm going with you this time," Peter said, reaching for his briefcase.

"That would bring your count to eighteen." Tony was watching Peter's face now. "And you know the Avengers will already be on the scene this time."

"We can work out the details for my _part-time_ membership later." Peter stripped out of his shirt, because the suit Tony gave him was similar to the armor in several ways, but it wasn't made for wearing street clothes under it. "But I'm definitely not letting my boyfriend star in an attempt to remake Jurassic World without me."

"I wouldn't want any love interest but you," Tony promised.

Peter put on his suit. Tony activated his armor. They went out to fight alien dinosaurs.

"I'm sorry to inform you," Thor told them on the way, "that even years of selective breeding have not managed to tame this species. Please be careful when subduing them, as they remain endangered and need to be transported back to the reserves. They were never meant to be reintroduced to this planet."

"Are you telling me," Peter pointed at one of the creatures paddling around in the bay attacking boats that had already been evacuated of people, "that those really are dinosaurs? Real dinosaurs?"

"I kind of want one," Tony said.

"No," said almost half the Avengers present.

"Endangered," Thor repeated gently. He looked wistful. "But I certainly understand the impulse."

—

Peter's first real mission for the Avengers started with crowd control, because it wasn't like there were any convenient buildings he could swing from in the middle of the ocean. Tony, Vision, Falcon, War Machine, and Thor were flying around keeping the dinosaurs in the water with the Asgardian equivalent of stun batons. Someone had dropped Cap on a t-rex's head. Everyone else was at the docks or the shoreline. Occasionally, the Scarlet Witch made a gesture and a line of red went shooting off toward the water.

"No," Peter told yet another curious tourist, "you can't take your rental boat out there. It's not safe."

"Hey." Hawkeye sidled up to him. "Widow's got a chopper, and I just got a bunch of magic tranq darts from Dr Strange. You want in?"

Peter ended up hanging from the bottom of it, shooting webbing at dinosaurs to distract them while Hawkeye leaned out the chopper door, hanging on mostly by a harness, and aimed for their mouths, because they'd discovered the darts just bounced off all the feathers.

When it was over, dinosaurs levitated by an exhausted witch and a couple bemused sorcerers back into the portal they came from, Tony said, "I'm sorry we had to cancel our date, but I'm glad you came with me."

"Tell me about the Avengers perks again?" Peter said.

Tony smiled. "For one thing, there's the victory sex."

"Is that really an Avengers perk?" Peter leaned into Tony's side.

Tony took the chance to steal a kiss. "I guess it is more of a 'dating Tony Stark' perk."

"I'll take it."

—

The first time Peter met Tony Stark, Peter was twenty-three years old and had a concussion. It was definitely worth it.


End file.
